dk.watchers-第31部分

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hey　were　hunting；　though　Lem　was　aware　that　some　of　them　had　trouble　believing　the　creature　really　existed。　Some　were　afraid。　But　others；　especially　those　who　had　previously　served　in　Lebanon　or　Central　America；　were　familiar　enough　with　death　and　horror　to　be　unshaken　by　the　nature　of　their　current　quarry。　A　few　oldtimers　went　as　far　back　as　the　final　year　of　the　Vietnam　War；　and　they　professed　to　believe　that　the　mission　was　a　piece　of　cake。　In　any　event；　they　were　all　good　men；　and　they　had　a　wary　respect　for　the　strange　enemy　they　were　stalking；　and　if　The　Outsider　could　be　found；　they　would　find　it。
　Now；　when　Lem　asked　for　their　attention；　they　immediately　fell　silent。
　〃General　Hotchkiss　tells　me　that　you've　had　another　fruitless　day　out　there；〃　Lem　said；　〃and　I　know　you're　as　unhappy　about　that　as　I　am。　You've　been　working　long　hours　in　rugged　terrain　for　six　days　now；　and　you're　tired；　and　you're　wondering　how　long　this　is　going　to　drag　on。　Well；　we're　going　to　keep　looking　until　we　find　what　we're　after；　until　we　corner　The　Outsider　and　kill　it。　There　is　no　way　we　can　stop　if　it's　still　loose。　No　way。〃
　None　of　the　hundred　even　grumbled　in　disagreement。
　〃And　always　remember…we're　also　looking　for　the　dog。〃
　Every　man　in　the　room　probably　hoped　that　he　would　be　the　one　to　find　the　dog　and　that　someone　else　would　encounter　The　Outsider。
　Lem　said；　〃On　Wednesday；　we're　bringing　in　another　four　Marine　Intelligence　squads　from　more　distant　bases；　and　they'll　spell　you　on　a　rotating　basis；　giving　you　a　couple　of　days　off。　But　you'll　all　be　out　there　tomorrow　morning；　and　the　search　area　has　been　redefined。〃
　A　county　map　was　mounted　on　the　wall　behind　the　lectern；　and　Lem　Johnson　pointed　to　it　with　a　yardstick。　〃We'll　be　shifting　north…northwest；　into　the　hills　and　canyons　around　Irvine　Park。〃
　He　told　them　about　the　slaughter　at　the　petting　zoo。　He　gave　a　graphic　description　of　the　condition　of　the　carcasses；　for　he　did　not　want　any　of　these　men　to　get　careless。
　〃What　happened　to　those　zoo　animals；〃　Lem　said；　〃could　happen　to　any　of　you　if　you　let　your　guard　down　at　the　wrong　place　and　time。〃
　A　hundred　men　regarded　him　with　utmost　seriousness；　and　in　their　eyes　he　saw　a　hundred　versions　of　his　own　tightly　controlled　fear。
　　　
　8
　Tuesday　night；　May　25；　Tracy　Leigh　Keeshan　could　not　sleep。　She　was　so　excited　she　felt　as　if　she　might　burst。　She　pictured　herself　as　a　dandelion　gone　to　seed；　a　puffball　of　fragile　white　fuzz；　and　then　a　gust　of　wind　would　e　along　and　all　the　bits　of　fluff　would　be　sent　spinning　in　every　direction…　poof…to　the　far　corners　of　the　world；　and　Tracy　Keeshan　would　exist　no　more；　destroyed　by　her　own　excitement。
　She　was　an　unusually　imaginative　thirteen…year…old。
　Lying　in　bed　in　her　dark　room；　she　did　not　even　have　to　close　her　eyes　to　see　herself　on　horseback…on　her　own　chestnut　stallion；　Goodheart；　to　be　precise…thundering　along　the　racetrack；　the　rails　flashing　past；　the　other　horses　in　the　field　left　far　behind；　the　finish　line　less　than　a　hundred　yards　ahead；　and　the　adoring　crowds　cheering　wildly　in　the　grandstand　。
　In　school；　she　routinely　got　good　grades；　not　because　she　was　a　diligent　student　but　because　learning　came　easily　to　her；　and　she　could　do　well　without　much　effort。　She　didn't　really　care　about　school。　She　was　slender；　blond；　with　eyes　the　precise　shade　of　a　clear　summer　sky；　very　pretty；　and　boys　were　drawn　to　her；　but　she　didn't　spend　any　more　time　thinking　about　boys　than　she　did　worrying　about　her　school　work；　not　yet　anyway；　although　her　girlfriends　were　so　fixated　on　boys；　so　consumed　by　the　subject　that　they　sometimes　bored　Tracy　half　to　death。
　What　Tracy　cared　about…deeply；　profoundly；　passionately…was　horses；　racing　thoroughbreds。　She　had　been　collecting　pictures　of　horses　since　she　was　five　and　had　been　taking　riding　lessons　since　she　was　seven；　though　for　the　longest　time　her　parents　had　not　been　able　to　afford　to　buy　her　a　horse　of　her　own。　During　the　past　two　years；　however；　her　father's　business　had　prospered；　and　two　months　ago　they　had　moved　into　a　big　new　house　on　two　acres　in　Orange　Park　Acres；　which　was　a　horsey　munity　with　plenty　of　riding　trails。　At　the　back　end　of　their　lot　was　a　private　stable　for　six　horses；　though　only　one　stall　was　occupied。　Just　today…Tuesday；　May　25；　a　day　of　glory；　a　day　that　would　live　forever　in　Tracy　Keeshan's　heart；　a　day　that　just　proved　there　was　a　God…she　had　been　given　a　horse　of　her　own；　the　splendid　and　beautiful　and　inparable　Goodheart。
　So　she　could　not　sleep。　She　went　to　bed　at　ten；　and　by　midnight　she　was　more　awake　than　ever。　By　one　o'clock　Wednesday　morning；　she　could　not　stand　it　any　longer。　She　had　to　go　out　to　the　stables　and　look　at　Goodheart。　Make　sure　he　was　all　right。　Make　sure　he　was　fortable　in　his　new　home。　Make　sure　he　was　real。
　She　threw　off　the　sheet　and　thin　blanket　and　got　quietly　out　of　bed。　She
　was　wearing　panties　and　a　Santa　Anita　Racetrack　T…shirt；　so　she　just　pulled　on　a　pair　of　jeans　and　slipped　her　bare　feet　into　blue　Nike　running　shoes。
　She　turned　the　knob　on　her　door　slowly；　quietly；　and　went　out　into　the　hail；　letting　the　door　stand　open。
　The　house　was　dark　and　quiet。　Her　parents　and　her　nine…year…old　brother　Bobby　were　asleep。
　Tracy　went　down　the　hall；　through　the　living　room　and　the　dining　room；　not　turning　on　lights；　relying　on　the　moonlight　that　penetrated　the　large　windows。
　In　the　kitchen；　she　silently　pulled　open　the　utility　drawer　on　the　corner　secretary　and　withdrew　a　flashlight。　She　unlocked　the　back　door　and　let　herself　out　onto　the　rear　patio；　stealthily　easing　the　door　shut　behind　her；　not　yet　switching　on　the　flashlight。
　The　spring　night　was　cool　but　not　chilly。　Silvered　by　moonlight　above　but　with　dark　undersides；　a　few　big　clouds　glided　like　white…sailed　galleons　across　the　sea　of　night；　and　Tracy　stared　up　at　them　for　a　while；　enjoying　the　moment。　She　wanted　to　absorb　every　detail　of　this　special　time；　letting　her　anticipation　build。　After　all；　this　would　be　her　first　moment　alone　with　the　proud　and　noble　Goodheart；　just　the　two　of　them　sharing　their　dreams　of　the　future。
　She　crossed　the　patio；　went　around　the　swimming　pool；　where　the　reflection　of　the　moon　rippled　gently　in　the　chlorinated　water；　and　stepped　out　onto　the　sloping　lawn。　The　dew…damp　grass　seemed　to　shimmer　in　the　lambent　lunar　beams。
　Off　to　the　left　and　right；　the　property　line　was　defined　by　white　ranch　fencing　that　appeared　vaguely　phosphorescent　in　the　moonglow。　Beyond　the　fences　were　other　properties　of　at　least　an　acre　and　some　as　large　as　the　Keeshan　place；　and　all　across　Orange　Park　Acres　the　night　was　still　but　for　a　few　crickets　and　nocturnal　frogs。
　Tracy　walked　slowly　toward　the　stables　at　the　end　of　the　yard；　thinking　about　the　triumphs　that　lay　ahead　for　her　and　Goodheart。　He　would　not　race　again。　He　had　placed　in　the　money　at　Santa　Anita；　Del　Mar；　Hollywood　Park；　and　other　tracks　throughout　California；　but　he　had　been　injured　and　could　no　longer　race　safely。　However；　he　could　still　be　put　to　stud；　and　Tracy　had　no　doubt　that　he'd　sire　winners。　Within　a　week　they　hoped　to　add　two　good　mares　to　the　stable；　and　then　they'd　take　the　horses　immediately　to　a　breeding　farm；　where　Goodheart　would　impregnate　the　mares。　All　three　would　be　brought　back　here；　where　Tracy　would　care　for　them。　Next　year　two　healthy　colts　would　be　born；　and　then　the　young　ones　would　be　boarded　with　a　trainer　near　enough　so　Tracy　could　visit　constantly；　and　she'd　help　out　with　their　training；　learn　all　there　was　to　learn　about　rearing　a　champion；　and　then…and　then…she　and　the　offspring　of　Goodheart　would　make　racing　history；　oh　yes；　she　was　quite　confident　of　making　racing　history…　Her　fantasizing　was　interrupted　when；　about　forty　yards　from　the　stables；
　she　stepped　in　something　mushy　and　slippery；　and　nearly　fell。　She　didn't　smell　manure；　but　she　figured　it　must　be　a　pile　left　by　Goodheart　when　they'd　had
　him　out　in　the　yard　last　evening。　Feeling　stupid　and　clumsy；　she　switched　on　the　flashlight　and　directed　it　at　the　ground；　and　instead　of　manure　she　found　the　remains　of　a　brutally　mutilated　cat。
　Tracy　made　a　hissing　sound　of　disgust　and　instantly　switched　off　the　flashlight。
　The　neighborhood　was　crawling　with　cats；　partly　because　they　were　useful　for　controlling　the　mouse　population　around　everyone's　stables。　Coyotes　regularly　ventured　in　from　the　hills　and　canyons　to　the　east；　in　search　of　prey。　Although　cats　were　quick；　coyotes　were　sometimes　quicker；　and　at　first　Tracy　thought　a　coyote　had　dug　under　the　fence　or　leaped　over　it　and　had　gotten　hold　of　this　unfortunate　feline；　which　had　probably　been　prowling　for　rodents。
　But　a　coyote　would　have　eaten　the　cat　right　on　the　spot；　leaving　little　more　than　a　bit　of　tail　and　a　scrap　or　two　of　fur；　for　a　coyote　was　a　gourmand　rather　than　gourmet　and　had　a　ravenous　appetite。　Or　it　would　have　carried　the　cat　away　for　leisurely　consumption　elsewhere。　Yet　this　cat　had　not　looked　even　half…eaten；　merely　torn　to　pieces；　as　if　something　or　someone　had　killed　it　merely　for　the　sick　pleasure　of　rending　it　apart　。
　Tracy　shuddered。
　And　remembered　the　rumors　about　the　zoo。
　In　Irvine　Park；　which　was　only　a　couple　of　miles　away；　someone　apparently　had　killed　several　caged　animals　in　the　small　petting　zoo　two　nights　ago。　Drug…crazed　vandals。　Thrill　killers。　The　story　was　just　a　hot　rumor；　and　no　one　was　able　to　confirm　it；　but　there　were　indications　that　it　was　true。　Some　kids　had　bicycled　out　to　the　park　yesterday　after　school；　and　they'd　not　seen　any　mangled　carcasses；　but　they'd　reported　that　there　seemed　to　be　fewer　animals　in　the　pens　than　usual。　And　the　Shetland　pony　was　definitely　missing。　Park　employees　had　been　unmunicative　when　approached。
　Tracy　wondered　if　the　same　psychos　were　prowling　Orange　Park　Acres；　killing　cats　and　other　family　pets；　a　possibility　that　was　spooky　and　sickening。　Suddenly；　she　realized　that　people　deranged　enough　to　slaughter　cats　for　the　sheer　fun　of　it　would　also　be　sufficiently　twisted　to　get　a　kick　out　of　killing　horses。
　An　almost　crippling　pang　of　fear　flashed　through　her　as　she　thought　of　Goodheart　out　there　in　the　stable　all　by　himself。　For　a　moment；　she　could　not　move。
　Aroun